


i will not ask you where you came from

by johnllauren



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Campaign: Graduation (The Adventure Zone), Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnllauren/pseuds/johnllauren
Summary: It’s been a few minutes since Fitzroy has come to, and he’s still shaking like a leaf. He looks more than worse for wear, and every couple seconds he gasps for air, still unable to regulate his breathing. His eyes are wide with fear.Argo’s chest is tight. He’s relieved,beyondrelieved - there were a few minutes there when he thought Fitzroy was dying, was going to breathe his last in Argo’s arms, and those were the scariest moments of his life. But even now, even when he knows Fitzroy will live, he sees Fitzroy’s look of acute pain and his heartaches.Althea is asking Fitzroy questions about what he felt, what he saw. Fitzroy, for his part, is doing an excellent job of avoiding giving her any answers.“All due respect, Althea, but I think you can tell he isn’t up for answerin’ these right now. He’s just been fucking cursed.” Argo says pointedly, though he isn’t looking at Althea, just Fitzroy.
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 15
Kudos: 151





	i will not ask you where you came from

**Author's Note:**

> title from hozier's "like real people do" because I can only post fics with hozier or mitski titles

It’s been a few minutes since Fitzroy has come to, and he’s still shaking like a leaf. He looks more than worse for wear, and every couple seconds he gasps for air, still unable to regulate his breathing. His eyes are wide with fear. 

Argo’s chest is tight. He’s relieved, _beyond_ relieved - there were a few minutes there when he thought Fitzroy was dying, was going to breathe his last in Argo’s arms, and those were the scariest moments of his life. But even now, even when he knows Fitzroy will live, he sees Fitzroy’s look of acute pain and his heart _aches_. 

Althea is asking Fitzroy questions about what he felt, what he saw. Fitzroy, for his part, is doing an excellent job of avoiding giving her any answers. 

“All due respect, Althea, but I think you can tell he isn’t up for answerin’ these right now. He’s just been fucking cursed.” Argo says pointedly, though he isn’t looking at Althea, just Fitzroy. 

For a moment he’s afraid Althea will say something about his obvious soft spot for Fitzroy, but he’s mercifully spared. If anything, she would’ve said something while she watched him hyperventilate at Fitzroy’s convulsing body. Althea doesn’t take the bait. 

“Fine. We can resume this later. Fitzroy, why don’t you take some time to rest,” Althea says. She does not sound pleased. 

Fitzroy nods, a staccato motion in between gasps. 

“C’mon, Fitz, let’s get you to the tent.” Argo says, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt at comfort. 

He tries to push himself up with his arms, and succeeds in lifting his shoulders, but his arms are shaking even worse, now, while Fitzroy attempts to hold himself up. It becomes very evident that Fitzroy is not going to be able to get himself up, and Argo can tell Fitzroy notices it too, but his brow is set in an attempt to ignore it. 

_He’s a barbarian. He should be stronger than this,_ Argo’s head is telling him, and he knows, he _knows_ , but he’s worried about so much already that he pushes the thought away, tries to think of anything else. 

“Can I carry you?” Argo’s voice is shaking. 

“Argo-” Fitzroy starts, and then his arms give out and his torso crashes against the ground again, knocking the breath out of him with a soft _oof._ “Yeah,” he says. 

Argo’s heart pounds, from worry or the idea of holding Fitzroy in his arms, he isn’t sure. 

It’s surprisingly easy to lift Fitzroy into his arms, and Argo cradles him against his chest. Fitzroy’s arms reach up to hold onto Argo’s shoulders, but his grip is weak, and Argo can feel every part of him trembling, shaking. 

“You’re strong,” Fitzroy comments, as Argo stands and takes him to their tent. 

Argo smiles. “I lived on a ship, Fitz.” 

Fitzroy hums in agreement or admiration or something, and Argo’s heart flutters. 

He sets Fitzroy down on his sleeping bag when they reach the tent, tying the entry flap shut behind them. Fitzroy exhales a thank you as Argo covers him with a blanket, places his own pillow on top of Fitzroy’s so Fitzroy has something to lean on. Once they’re alone and Fitzroy is taken care of, he visibly relaxes, sinking into the warmth of the blanket and the comfort of Argo watching him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Argo asks, sitting beside him just like he had been on the ground. 

“Not really,” Fitzroy says. 

They lapse into silence. Argo reaches forward, extends his hand toward Fitzroy’s hair, and Fitzroy nods. He entwines his fingers in Fitzroy’s hair gently, carding through it like he’s afraid he’ll hurt Fitzroy, but Fitzroy leans into the touch. 

“Were you telling the truth, Argo?” he asks. “About - about knowing I was lying about the past. About being a fancylad, as you say.” 

Argo laughs. “Yes.” 

“How?”

“You’re, uh - you’re my friend, Fitzroy. I pay attention to you when you talk.” Argo says. “You’re never happy when you talk about it. It always looks like you’re in pain.” 

“Oh.” Fitzroy says. “Well, it’ll be nice to have someone I don’t need to play pretend around constantly.” 

“You’ve never had to play pretend around me or the Firbolg. We’re your friends, Fitzroy, we care about you because you’re _you,_ not because of some backstory or wealth or anything like that.”

And Fitzroy looks surprised, like he can’t believe it. Like he thought Argo and the Firbolg only cared about him because of his status. “I’ve never had someone treat me like that.” He says, still wary, like Argo will reveal that all of it was a prank.

“You do now.” Argo’s voice is soft, caring, and he moves his hand to cup Fitzroy’s face, stroking Fitzroy’s cheek with his thumb in a way that makes them both feel warm. 

Fitzroy hesitates before speaking. “Clyde Nite’s Night Knight School wasn’t… it wasn’t a good experience. For me.” 

Argo nods, looking at Fitzroy with intense eyes, eyes that want to understand. 

“It was awful.” Fitzroy says, screwing his eyes shut, either to avoid Argo’s gaze or to try to escape the memories. 

“Is that what you were thinking about? Under the curse?” Argo asks, his hand still on Fitzroy’s face, comforting, delicate. 

Fitzroy nods, shudders. “Was - was it obvious?”

“No, not at all. You just seemed upset.” 

A tear makes its way down Fitzroy’s face, and Argo wipes it away with his thumb. “Oh, _Fitzroy,_ ” he says, but his voice isn’t pitying or belittling. It’s understanding, soft, filled with an emotion neither of them really want to name. 

“I’m sorry, Argo,” Fitzroy says, and his voice is strangled. “Gods, I must seem so stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, Fitzroy, you’re never stupid. You’re allowed to cry. Come here.” 

Fitzroy’s breath hitches, but he pushes himself up slightly, and Argo wraps his arms around him, takes him in his arms and pulls him into a hug. Fitzroy wraps his arms around Argo’s torso, buries his head in Argo’s neck. One of Argo’s hands rubs his back, and the other returns to Fitzroy’s hair, and Argo is sturdy, is constant, is exactly what Fitzroy needs. 

They stay there, unmoving, silent understanding passing between them. 

“Did you mean what you said to Althea?” Fitzroy’s voice is small. “When I collapsed.” 

Argo nearly stops breathing. “Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t hear that.” 

Fitzroy had collapsed like a sandbag onto the ground, at first. His eyes were closed and it looked like he wasn’t going to make it much longer, like he was going to die right in front of them. Althea had looked at Argo and the Firbolg and told them to get back, to do something, but Argo had shaken his head. “No, stop, _I love him_ ,” Argo had said, desperate, pleading, tears clouding his vision, and Althea had let him stay. 

“Did you mean it?” Fitzroy repeats, his voice feather-light. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Argo’s voice is scarcely more than a breath. 

Fitzroy pulls back to look at Argo, and they are both crying. “I love you,” Fitzroy says, his eyes meeting Argo’s. His voice is wavering, but there’s conviction behind it. 

“You do?” He’s been through a lot in the past hour or so, but this is definitely the most surprising. 

“Yes, Argo, gods, yes.” 

Fitzroy moves closer and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in like an hour because i just finished the episode and i had feelings, okay  
> my tumblr: lafayettesass


End file.
